THE OGATA, OR BURROW CROCODILE
A big ogata, over seven feet long, was looking one day from the dark
opening of his burrow built on a declivity of a hill by a large river,
watching for prey. The creature was ugly enough, and looked somewhat
like his cousin the crocodile, and he is just as bad if not worse. The
ogata is a night animal.
From his dark hole, his hungry eyes peered through the intense darkness;
but no prey was in sight. “I have had a hard life lately,” he said; “I
have been hungry, for prey is scarce, and all the animals of the forest
are now afraid of this place, for I have devoured many, and those who
have escaped from my powerful jaws have told the others to beware of
this neighborhood.”
Then he opened his big mouth, and thought of the many animals that had
been held last in his jaws, and of his many delicious meals, and added:
“The good meals of the past do not help the future; indeed, when we are
hungry, the recollection of them only serves to give us a greater
appetite. Here I starve now, and I must move away to some other
quarters; otherwise I shall die of hunger.”
His big body gradually issued from his hole, and, through the darkness,
which to him was like sunshine, he looked up and down the river, for he
had not made up his mind yet which way to go and explore. After much
thought, he decided to go up-stream. He walked or swam along the wooded
shores of the river, and after a while came to the declivity of another
hill by the water, where he stopped, and looking around said: “Here is a
good place for me to make my burrow. The rain when it runs down will not
fill my home. Surely animals will come here to drink or to cross the
river.” Whereupon he chuckled as the ogata does at the prospect of
having a good meal.
He immediately set at work, and with his foreclaws dug a round hole,
just big enough for him to go through. After a while only half of his
body was to be seen. The earth which he excavated was thrown out by his
forefeet, armed with heavy claws, and heaped up behind him. It was hard
work, for he had met with roots of trees, and these had to be cut
through and taken out of the way. If he had been a human being, he would
have been worn out. His big claws did splendid work. After a while only
his tail was to be seen, his hind-legs being hidden in the burrow and
helping to throw out the dirt the forelegs dug. The burrow went deep
into the declivity of the hill, and when finished had two entrances,—one
to go in, the other to go out.
It was nearly daylight when he had finished his burrow. So he went in to
spend the day, and had a good sleep. When night came, he went to the
other opening to watch for prey. His ugly head and wicked, treacherous
eyes were listening and watching; but that night no animal came to the
river to drink. He felt terribly hungry and said to himself: “Strange it
is if I have built my burrow in a place where no animal comes to drink.
It is not often that I am mistaken in my selection of a home.”
As he watched he heard a rippling on the water, and, looking in the
direction from which the sound came, saw up the river a gazelle swimming
toward the other shore, which she had nearly reached. He immediately
left his burrow, and in an instant was swimming, against the current, as
fast as he could toward the beautiful creature, saying to himself, “Now
I shall soon have a meal. It is about time, for I am starving.”
He was near his prey in an incredibly short time, but if she succeeded
in landing, she would escape him by running at once into the forest, and
his meal, upon which he was counting so much, would vanish.
The poor gazelle found that the fierce ogata was after her; she swam as
fast as she could, and landed, with her enemy within a few feet of her.
In another moment his jaws would have closed upon her. But she bounded
into the forest, and soon was out of sight.
The ogata was furious, and said: “You miserable little gazelle, you have
escaped me!” Then he grinned as the ogatas do; but it was a grin of
disappointment and hate. Reluctantly he recrossed the river, and went to
his burrow to watch again for prey.
The day of retribution was coming for the ogata; his life of slaughter
was soon to come to an end. No more creatures were to be eaten by him.
It happened the next day that some human beings, as they were paddling
in their canoe close to the shore, saw the burrow the ogata had made.
They landed, and exhibited great glee when they saw the fresh trail of
the ogata. They knew it was not an old burrow, and that the ugly
creature was inside asleep.
So they went back of the two openings, collected wood, closed the
entrances, and inside the exit, a little distance from its mouth, set a
snare to catch him. When all was ready, they lighted a fire at one
entrance, and pushed the burning wood inside. The smoke was so dense,
and the fire so bright, that the ogata was frightened and ran out toward
the exit. There he was caught in the meshes made for him, and was
killed.